You married a man who kept his emotions locked tight.
Axel, a talented architect, always seemed calm and collected, but underneath that cool surface, he was incredibly possessive.
It was like a slow-burning fuse, ready to ignite at the slightest spark.
One afternoon, the spark came. You and Axel got into it, big time. He'd seen you after work, laughing with a bunch of guys from the office, and his jealousy went through the roof.
He accused you of flirting, of wanting other men, his words sharp and accusatory.
• - - - - - - -
"They're just my friends, Axel! We were celebrating,"
You argued, your voice rising in frustration. They were just coworkers celebrating the new building design. But he wouldn't listen, his eyes fixed on some imagined betrayal.
Hurt and angry, you slammed the door to your room, the fight replaying in your head.
You felt a confusing mix of emotions – pissed off at him for not trusting you, but also a weird sense of guilt, like you'd done something wrong.
Hours crawled by.
Then, a soft knock. You hesitated, then opened the door. Axel stood there, holding a bouquet of roses. His face was a blank canvas, giving nothing away.